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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395000">Breaking Away - A FFXIV Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACasualStarmie/pseuds/ACasualStarmie'>ACasualStarmie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:27:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACasualStarmie/pseuds/ACasualStarmie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirih Lyhega has grown tired of the assassin's life. Her most recent assignment has taken its toll on her and all she wants is to find peace, to step away from that dark world. But, the decision to walk away has consequences. Nothing is ever as easy as we want it to be...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Breaking Away - A FFXIV Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sirih’s nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. A familiar scent; blood. Violet eyes went down, coming to rest on the crumpled heap of a person in the center of the room. Slain, by her hand. An awful, wretched soul who sold children into slavery. He would be mourned by none except maybe the family he left behind, ignorant of his crimes. She knelt next to him and placed a hand atop his chest. Still warm. Her gaze went from his face to the wound. A single puncture through the heart. </p><p>She let out a small sigh and took her focus from her kill, directing it to the satchel clinging to her hip. One hand went inside of it, fishing around for something. It took but a moment and then that hand came back out, clutching a strip of pure white cloth. On the back of it, written in ink was the man’s name; Noriyuki Mihata. The miqo’te guided that cloth to the location of the fatal blow and pressed down, soaking the marker red with her target’s blood. Proof of the kill. She had done all she needed. </p><p>“May you find peace in the next life,” Sirih said, offering a small prayer to the slain, unworthy as he was. She rose to her feet. It was time to go. The miqo’te moved to the window across the room, still hanging open from her earlier infiltration. She climbed onto the windowsill, ready to jump to her freedom. And then, the door behind her opened. Her ears twitched at the scratching of the frame as the door slid across it. She reached down, one hand curling around the hilt of her blade. Sirih looked back over her shoulder and felt her blood run cold. Her eyes widened as she observed the figure in the doorway. </p><p>A boy, who likely hadn’t seen more than nine or ten summers stood there, watching. His hair was a dark brown, like that of the man she’d killed, though far messier. The boy’s eyes were a deep shade of blue, like sapphires. He locked eyes with the assassin in the window, his focus on her for a few moments. Those captivated blues moved from Sirih over to the mass on the floor. </p><p>Instinctually, her hand tightened around her weapon. She wouldn’t draw it, not on a child, but she couldn’t help the feeling. The pitter-patter of footsteps rang loudly in her ears as the boy rushed over to his father’s side. He made no sound at all as he threw himself over the body, trying to shake him awake. </p><p>Sirih sighed and looked down. Poor kid. “Sorry, sugar,” she apologized, her tone soft and sincere. The kid didn’t know the kind of man his father was, only that he was gone now. She turned her head and pushed out of the window. She leapt into the cool, night air and landed gracefully atop a nearby roof. Her footfalls made no sound at all as she went forward, crossing to the next roof. The miqo’te stopped, exhaling softly. She turned back and looked up to the window. </p><p>The boy was there, staring down back at her. She cursed her eyes. She could see the anger, the tears, the pain she’d caused him. Once more, the two find their gazes locked. A light turned on behind him and someone came up behind him. She needed to leave. This time, Sirih was the one to turn away. She took off running, moving from roof to roof as the lights in the building she’d come from began to come on. As she fled the scene, a single tear streaked down her cheek. </p><p>A few hours had passed since the body of Mihata had been discovered. News of an assassin spread like wildfire through the city. However, no one could describe the killer. And the only one to have seen the assailant, Noriyuki’s son, was in shock and unable to speak on what he’d witnessed. </p><p>“It is done,” came a harsh, raspy voice. Its owner was a hooded figure, one of three elders, who oversaw the Council’s affairs. Much of his body was obscured by the large robe, his face hidden by a mask. </p><p>Sirih answered with a nod, kneeling in front of the elders. She reached into her satchel and produced the strip of cloth. The miqo’te placed it on the ground and said nothing. The marker was proof her task was complete. </p><p>“You were seen,” declared a second voice. This one was more youthful, deep and yet oddly feminine at the same time. </p><p>Sirih nodded again. “His son,” she said, affirming the statement. “No one else saw my face, except for him.” </p><p>“It is of no consequence,” came the third voice, issued from the center cloaked figure. Masculine, deep, powerful. The voice of the leader. “Another contract has come in. The target- “ </p><p>“No,” Sirih interjected, cutting off the speaker. She stayed in the same position, eyes still on the ground, as she interrupted the briefing on her next task. “I’m done. This was my last assignment. I…I can’t do this anymore.” </p><p>The three elders share a glance, though no words are exchanged. A few moments of silence pass, an eternity to Sirih, and then they refocus their attentions on the kneeling assassin. “Are you certain?” the harsh-sounding elder questioned. </p><p>Sirih’s breath caught in her throat and she hesitated on answering the elder. The miqo’te took a moment to consider her stance, her choice. She inhaled and then gave her reply. “Yes.” One truthful word. </p><p>The three figures traded looks again. Once more, they take a moment before speaking to her again. “There is no going back, Sirih Lyhega,” the woman with the deep voice warned. </p><p>She didn’t say anything. She didn’t look up or even move. </p><p>“You are talented. It will be a shame to see you leave our ranks,” the center man said, stepping forward. “Rise, Sirih.”</p><p>Sirih did as instructed, following the command of the powerful, booming voice. She brought herself up to her feet. Her held was held high and she placed her arms behind her back, ready to receive whatever they deemed fit. </p><p>“Sirih Lyhega,” the three said, speaking in almost perfect unison. “The council respects your decision. Go in peace.” Their words are devoid of emotion, but they offered a small bow to the woman. She’d take it as genuine. </p><p>“Thank you,” she answered, bowing in kind and mimicking the respectful gesture. There was nothing more to say between them, so she turned her back and left the Council’s chambers. It was time to begin her new life. </p><p>
  <strong>One week later…</strong>
</p><p>Sirih rose from the bed. She wrapped the length of the sheet around her like a dress and moved over towards the window. The former assassin was slated to leave the Far East aboard a small trade barge, destined for Limsa Lominsa. Off to start a new life. A better life. She turned her violet gaze up towards the moonlit sky and sighed. </p><p>Silently, she made her way back to the edge of her bed. However, the miqo’te did not lay down. She started to chuckle quietly. Sirih slipped a hand under her pillow. </p><p>“Tonight’s not a good night, darlin’,” she warned aloud, her tail swishing behind her. Beneath the pillow, her fingers curled around the hilt of a dagger. “Why don’t you run along home? Keep your head a little longer.” </p><p>She was referring to the intruder in her room, standing off in a corner. Hyur, by the look of him. He was still, clad in black, with a painted mask obscuring his features. The intruder said nothing in response to her threat. Instead, he stepped forward and drew a weapon. </p><p>Sirih sighed and turned towards him. One hand held her makeshift gown to her chest to protect her modesty. The other brandished her knife, pointed at his chest. The room was quiet, as both faced each other down. </p><p>The miqo’te made the first move, lunging towards her attacker. She lashed out with it, the air whistling as the blade slashed through. Her attacker parried with his own weapon, with sparks being created as steel met steel. The masked man pushed back and swung out with a counterattack, aimed for her throat. Sirih didn’t flinch away and greeted his weapon with her own, locking their blades together. The would-be assassin drew a second blade from his waist and shifted his footing, slicing at Sirih’s belly with the new weapon. She caught the flash of metal and disengaged, leaping back and narrowly avoiding the sharp edge. </p><p>“Not bad,” she complimented, baring her fangs. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed at the air. She grinned, showing those sharpened canines in full. “Poison. You’re no amateur. And whoever hired you really wants me dead.” </p><p>Her opposite gave nothing but silence in return. He raised his weapons and adjusted his stance, ready to continue their fight. Sirih answered with a sigh and took her place. This time, the assassin made the first move and rushed towards her, both blades at the ready. Sirih counterattacked by hurling her blade towards the charging aggressor, aiming for his head. He dodged easily but took his eyes off Sirih. And that is all it took. </p><p>Sirih shed the blanket and made her move. She leapt into the air, taking advantage of his distraction, and arced her body into a crescent. The agile miqo’te completed the flip and landed on her foe’s shoulders, trapping his head between her thighs. Sirih crossed her ankles, locking them across his chest and used all her strength to arch backwards and take him from his feet. The assassin landed headfirst on the hard ground and a sickening crack was heard; she’d broken his neck. His body went stiff from the sudden trauma and then slumped into a heap on the floor. </p><p>“I did warn you,” the woman said, exhaling and pulling her legs back. She stayed seated for a moment. Weary eyes settled on the freshly dead corpse. “Just one more day and I would’ve been done with this. And you’d still be alive.” She sighed and stood up. </p><p>Sirih moved over to the place where he’d fallen and used her foot to roll him onto his back. The mask was cracked, but still held true to its owner’s face, hiding his identity. Curiosity did get the better of the miqo’te, however. She knelt next to the dead man and pried the mask free. </p><p>“Yasuharu!?” she cried, eyes going wide at the sight of him. Disbelief was plastered across her face as she stared into his lifeless green eyes. “I don’t…Yasuharu, why?” She shook him a few times, repeatedly demanding him to explain himself. But the dead don’t speak. </p><p>She dropped his body and started searching his person, desperately trying to understand what had just taken place. Why he’d come after her. And then she found it. A marker. On the back of it, the word “Rogue”. The Council had sent him. </p><p>Anger swelled within her as she clutched the strip of cloth meant for her. Anger at them for sending a friend to kill her. Anger at herself for thinking she could just walk away and be free. She looked from it to the wall that her knife had stuck into. And then back at Yasuharu’s body. </p><p>Hours later, Yasuharu’s body is discovered at the Bokairo Inn. The Sekiseigumi closed off the building and detained those on site to investigate. One member of the force kneels next to the body of the slain, failed assassin. He searched the body and found nothing except a note, scrawled in blood. </p><p>
  <em> ‘Stay away. -S’ </em>
</p><p><em> Sometime Later...</em> <em><br/></em> <em> Aboard the Lady Faye, Eastern Waters </em></p><p>Sirih stood on the deck of the boat meant to ferry her to Eorzea and watched the waves. She’d chosen civilian clothes, reminiscent of what her kind typically wore but with a bit of her eastern flair. Attracting attention was not something she wanted to do. The miqo’te turned her back to the water and dug in her satchel, fishing out a linkpearl. </p><p>“I know you’re there,” she whispered softly into the device. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen real good.” Sirih paused, allowing whoever was on the other end to take notes. “Stay away from me. Or I will kill every single one of you.” </p><p>She chucked the comm device over her shoulder and into the water. The former assassin leaned back against the railing. She dug into her pouch for the second time and fished out a small notebook. Sirih flipped to the first page and written in blood was the name “Yasuharu Yumishi”. The name of the first assassin sent by the Council. </p><p>Sirih snapped the book shut and stowed it away, turning her gaze back towards the water. Freedom had come at a cost. And she doubted the Council would truly heed the warning she’d given them. If they did, then no one else had to die. But if they didn’t? Sirih would make sure to keep her promise. </p><p>
  <em> -Fin- </em>
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